


Until the Ground Should Fail Me

by Wabbittears



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Chris knows what's up, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pichit is still a fanboy, Slow Burn, So much angst, These idiots are dumb but I love them, Where the anime left off, Why are they this way, Yuuri is savage, after the gpf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 23:20:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10424079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wabbittears/pseuds/Wabbittears
Summary: The stakes piled high, and the Grand Prix Final season has only just begun.  Yuuri is more determined than ever to win, but with his coach returning to the competitive skating world, things are a mess to say the least.“Viktor, I’m really sorry, but you know if you won’t kiss it when it’s silver, you definitely don’t get to tap it until it’s gold.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be a long, long, angsty ride, so buckle up and prepare yourselves.  
> I apologize in advance if updates aren't as frequent as I (or you) want them to be, but I have a busy schedule, and not a whole lot of time to work on it. 
> 
> Thank you so much to [Violet Milk and Oleander](http://violetmilk-and-oleander.tumblr.com/) for being my Beta reader!! (You're a life saver, and a history maker)

At the GPF Banquet

Yuuri stood and watched as Viktor chatted amiably with the various coaches and skaters that he had yet to greet that season. Social gatherings were the sole aspect of figure skating that Yuuri absolutely loathed. It wasn’t so much that he was an anti-social person, though he usually did prefer to stay in, but the fact that he was painfully awkward when he was forced to make idle conversation. 

Viktor, who knew nearly everyone in the room, was having no problem striking up conversation left and right.  Yuuri however, only knew a handful of the skaters present, most of which he had only just met this season (with the exception of Pichit of course).  He wandered around the room looking for someone to talk to who wasn’t already wrapped up in conversation.  When he spotted no one that he knew, he hovered by the hors d'oeuvres table, nervously snagging a few onto his plate. 

He knew better than to step anywhere near the champagne table for fear of repeating the previous year’s mistakes, which he had already been reminded of on several occasions that evening.  Chris, having seen him standing awkwardly from across the room, politely stepped out of his conversation and made his way over to Yuuri. 

“To think I had assumed the gold would just fall into my lap now that Viktor is gone, and then I missed the podium completely.” Chris sighed, tipping his head back to drain the rest of his glass of champagne.

“Tell me about it.” Yuuri snorted, popping the last piece of cheese on his plate into his mouth. “I lost by a tenth of a point, do you even know how frustrating that is? Not to mention I will  _ never _ hear the end of this from Viktor.”    

“What do you say we round up a few people and get out of here.” Chris suggested, looking around the room. “Things seem to be winding down around here anyway, and I think the two of us need something more to drink than champagne.”

The idea of drowning their sorrows sounded fantastic to Yuuri, but Viktor was always strict with his diet and alcohol intake during the competition season, and with World’s right around the corner, he doubted Viktor would let him off the hook for the night.  After explaining this to Chris, he simply smirked and said, “You let me worry about that.  Now go get Viktor and meet me in the lobby in half an hour.”  He sauntered off to go see who else was coming.

By the time had crossed the room back to Viktor, his conversation with a few of the ISU officials had just wrapped up and Yuuri slipped his arm into Viktor’s. 

“I don’t think I can stand to be here any longer, and Chris and some others are going out, do you want to come?” Yuuri asked, looking expectantly up at Viktor.  He looked around the room at the half empty tables of food and the sparse glasses of champagne littering the others.  He sighed, seeing as they’d stayed long enough for them to leave without any backlash.

“Sure. As long as you watch the alcohol.” He said, and Yuuri face instantly lit up as he pulled Viktor out of the banquet hall.  They made sure to give a few curt nods to their respective coaches and other skaters they passed on their way out.  They quickly stopped in their hotel room to trade out their stuffy formal attire for something more appropriate for a night out. 

Viktor had slipped into a pair of jeans and a snug grey button up with the sleeves rolled up over his elbows.  When he saw Yuuri examining himself in the mirror, his jaw fell open.  He was in the goddamn tightest pair of jeans he’d ever seen, which perfectly accentuated Yuuri’s already rather prominent butt. On top, he had a fitted black and white striped shirt, with an olive bomber jacket thrown over top.  Yuuri quickly ran into the bathroom to slick back his hair before gesturing to the door and asking, “Ready?”

Down in the lobby they found that a small group of skaters had already assembled even though they still had about five minutes until it was time to leave.  Pichit wormed his way through the crowd to greet them for the first time that night. After a quick hug, Pichit began to give Yuuri a once over, taking a step back to admire his outfit. Yuuri blushed and covered his face as he tried to turn away.

“Do I look okay?” He asked, peeking out from behind one of his hands.

Pichit didn’t answer and simply pressed a finger to Yuuri’s lips as he continued to look him up and down.  Once he was finished, he met Yuuri’s stare and nodded.

“Damn, do you look hot.” He said, taking a step back.

Yuuri was not entirely sure how to respond, and glanced at Viktor. “Uhhh thanks?” 

Viktor shrugged nonchalantly. “The man has a point.”

Then Chris stepped out from the back of the crowd and spotted Viktor and Yuuri. “Everyone’s here, should we head out?” Without waiting for a response,  he had already begun moving in the direction of the door.

A short walk later, they had arrived in front of a night club that was brightly lit and the music pulsed through the air. Chris had stepped aside to talk with the bouncer, and shortly the group made their way inside. The club was in full swing, clusters of people littered the dance floor and the bar was packed. They followed Chris back to a secluded group of tables that must have been the VIP section before they sat down. No one knew where the man got all of his connections, but there was an unspoken rule amongst the group not to discuss it.

“I’ll grab you guys some drinks.” He looked at Viktor and Yuuri, “Gin and tonic?” Viktor nodded, and Chris nudged Pichit to come with.  The two weaved their way through the throngs of people over to the bar, and shortly returned with hands full of drinks.

Chris slid a tall, clear glass across the table to Viktor, “A gin and tonic for you.” Then he set another, bright red drink in front of Yuuri, “And some juice for you.” He winked as he set it down, knowing look in his eyes.  Both Yuuri and Viktor thanked him and lifted their glasses to take a sip.  As soon as he had tasted it, Yuuri knew what it was, Vodka and cranberry juice. Nice.  He lifted it back up and downed about half the glass in one go.  Looking over at Chris he could see that he had made similar progress with his drink, a little over three quarters of his whiskey had already disappeared.  He tipped his head back once more and drained the rest of his whiskey before reaching over for Yuuri’s nearly empty glass.  Deciding not to waste it, Yuuri gulped down the rest of his drink and passed it back to Chris.

“Thirsty huh?” Viktor had watched the ordeal out of the corner of his eye and a small smile had crept onto his face.

“Oh, uh yeah.” Yuuri stammered realizing Viktor probably still thought it was juice. “I didn’t really drink anything at the banquet so…” He trailed off and Viktor snorted beside him.

“It’s really too bad, I would have paid to see you pole dance again.”

Yuuri was now blushing furiously, and without much else to say he punched Viktor in the shoulder doing his best to look offended.  Chris returned with their drinks, and Yuuri gratefully accepted.

They repeated the process of Chris traipsing to the bar to grab refills and slamming them down several times until both of them could feel the effects of the alcohol. Viktor had begun to look concerned when Chris could no longer walk in a straight line, but it certainly didn’t stop him from making another trip to the bar. When he slid the drink over to Yuuri, he slumped down into his seat, and the two of them raised their glasses and tipped them back.  After it was gone, Yuuri decided that four glasses of Vodka had definitely not been a great idea.  He found out in college that surprisingly, he had a relatively high tolerance to alcohol, but even so, he was completely wasted after that much to drink.

His head was spinning and suddenly it was difficult to focus on any one thing for too long.  Viktor was shaking his shoulder and saying something.  He looked up, unable to tell what he was now yelling at Yuuri, he could tell it was in English, but he was so far gone that his brain had stopped translating.  He just sat and giggled because he’d never really realized how funny people look when they talk.

Then he felt himself tipping. One laugh had thrown him off balance and he was now sliding sideways out of his chair.  Viktor reached over and caught his arm quickly, but it just forced his body to turn, head slamming into the table.  He could feel someone shaking his shoulder, but the sudden wave of fatigue made him far too tired to care, and his eyelids fluttered shut. 

Instantly it registered in Viktor’s mind and he was out of his seat with Chris’ shirt balled up in his fist.  “What have you been giving him.” Viktor growled, bringing his face close to Chris’

Drunkenly, Chris laughed, “You don’t think he knew what was in it? Viktor, he’s not some perfect little pretty boy...”

“You asshole.” Viktor snarled as he practically threw Chris away from him.  He nudged Yuuri to see if he was still conscious, and when he didn’t move, Viktor hauled him onto his back and made for the door. 

After he had dragged Yuuri back the hotel room and safely tucked him into bed, he sat, face buried in his hands. He knew he had definitely overreacted, and would have to apologize to Chris in the morning.  The thought of anyone harming Yuuri had just made him snap, and he knew he couldn’t blame it on the alcohol since he’d only had one drink. He let out a long sigh and felt Yuuri stir under the covers next to him.

He turned around with a glass of water and insisted that Yuuri drink.  Gratefully, Yuuri took the glass and gulped it down.  Viktor stood to refill the glass, and Yuuri crawled out from underneath the sheets.  When he returned, Viktor offered the glass back to Yuuri, and when he refused, set it on the night stand.

Wobbling a bit, Yuuri pushed himself onto his knees and reached for Viktor’s arm.  He tugged at his shoulder before pulling him back onto the mattress. Viktor raised an eyebrow in confusion, but still swung his feet up and onto the bed. 

Yuuri planted a kiss on his forehead and then straddled his lap, trailing his finger down the side of his face. His breath was hot against Viktor’s neck,  and he left a trail of kisses down his neck to his chest.  Then he began to grind his hips in small circles across Viktor’s groin. 

“Mmm Yuuri.” He moaned, “Stop you’re just drunk.”  But he just pushed down harder and began circling his hips more intensely. He grabbed a fist full of Viktor’s shirt and brought him in for a kiss. 

Viktor had begun to pant beneath him, and Yuuri could feel the pressure of an erection straining against his jeans.  He leaned down to kiss Viktor, and instead placed his mouth next to his ear.  His voice came out in a breathy whine, but he tried to ignore it as he spoke.  “Viktor I want you to fuck me. Hard. There’s no practice tomorrow, so it doesn’t matter if I can’t walk.” Viktor swallowed hard, and started running his hands up and down Yuuri’s sides, and bucked his hips up to meet Yuuri’s.  “You’d fuck me so good, until I’m panting and moaning and I can’t take it any more.”

“But Viktor… you know what?”

“Hmm?” He covered Yuuri’s mouth with his own before he had a chance to answer.

Yuuri pulled away from the kiss and dropped his head back down to Viktor’s ear.  “I guess it’s going to have to wait, since we’re not having sex until I win gold.”  He moved away to get a look at Viktor’s face.  A childish grin had spread across his own face at the sight of the confusion and dismay on Viktor’s. 

Then, Yuuri slid off his lap and plopped onto the bed beside him and let the alcohol take its toll. Viktor shifted beside him before he realized that Yuuri, who was motionless on the bed beside him, had passed out again. He let out another long sigh before dragging himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

-

After the Grand Prix Final, they had become something more than coach and student, though Yuuri wasn’t sure exactly what to label it.  They shared an emotional connection, which was the closest thing to love Yuuri had ever experienced, but they rarely did couple activities, as they were both far too busy to go out on dates.  Instead, they spent nearly all of their time in each other’s company going throughout the menial tasks of their daily lives.

Less than a month later, Yuuri competed at the Japanese nationals, and thanks to the lack of strong competitors, he easily took first.

In the following months Yuuri and Viktor had spent the time training for the World Championships. Viktor spent less time coaching Yuuri, choosing to done some brushing up on his own skating-- even though he had mostly kept up with it in his spare time.

Viktor had announced that he would make his comeback to skating at the following year’s GPF, and had begun to dedicate an increasing amount of time to getting himself back into shape.  It took him away from Yuuri more than he wanted, but there were some things that he couldn’t argue with if he wanted to ever wanted to be competitively again.

During the World Championships, Viktor had to fly out at the last minute to take care of some of the details of his return, and Yuuri was left alone at the competition. Thanks to the stress and pressure… well, he wasn’t in his top form and placed 4 th .   

The loss was crushing, after coming so close to the gold medal at the GPF he had choked.  To say he was disappointed was an understatement, and knew Viktor probably was as well, but it only added to his blazing determination to win the next Grand Prix Final, no matter the consequences.

-

10 Months Later

“Next on the ice representing Japan, Yuuri Katsuki!” The announcer’s voice roared over the loud speaker as Yuuri carefully made his way  into the rink. The tail end of his form fitting burgundy top streamed out behind him, rhinestones glittering in the bright lights as he skated.  He felt a bit insecure thanks to the mesh paneling that plunged directly down the center of his chest, but Viktor had assured him that he looked amazing.

For the first time since his days training with Pichit, Yuuri was back on the ice in America. He was there for the first qualifying competition of the Grand Prix Final, Skate America.  Viktor was fortunately not competing and both of his qualifying events had been separate from Yuuri’s.  To many, it was a shock Viktor had decided to stay as Yuuri’s coach; and it was the first season in which Viktor, who was currently enthusiastically cheering from the sidelines, would participate as coach and competitor.  

His mind reeled as he tried to suppress his visible shaking.  He skated a few loops and slow spins to calm his nerves before the music started. As much as he dreaded skating first, he was grateful for it; It didn’t give him the opportunity to compare his program to the other skaters, who were both plentiful and incredibly talented. The pressure of knowing exactly what he was up against, and what he had to beat had always been far worse. The first note rang crisp and clear as the music flowed onto the ice.  Trying to calm himself, Yuuri began to skate, gliding smoothly across the ice as he slipped into his routine.  He tried desperately to suppress the anxiety that managed to creep into the back of his mind, and instead focus on channeling the emotions bottled up inside him into his short program.

He built up his speed, preparing to launch himself into his first quad, a loop.  His pick dug into the ice and he soared through the air arms clasped tightly to his chest.  His skates cut back into the ice as he pulled out of the jump, heart beating quickly.  He tried again to calm his nerves and lose himself in the music, allowing it to take his mind off the competition.  He could see the audience flash by in blurs of color and the cameras constantly watching.  It didn’t matter how many times he had competed, something about knowing thousands of eyes were focused only on him never got any easier.  

The rest of his jumps had been pushed into the second half of his program to raise his score, which meant his step sequence was next.  Channeling his bottled emotions into his program had always been one of Yuuri’s strengths. Skating was and always had been his escape from reality, how Yuuri had learned to express his feelings from a very young age.  When he was finally able to shut the outside world out of his skating, Yuuri’s body simply intertwined with the music, his mind drifting, thoughts nearly anywhere but on skating.  His emotions poured onto the ice, every feeling he didn’t know how to express in words filled his movement as his skates snaked and looped leaving their marks on the ice.

He pulled into a spin before attempting the final three jumps in his routine.  The first was a quad Salchow, one of Yuuri’s weaker jumps, but he let the feeling guide him into the movement and his skate came back down onto the ice.  The landing wasn’t perfect, but he had stuck it and it was unlikely the judges would make any deductions.  His next jump was a quad flip, Viktor’s signature.  Though Viktor had tried time and time again to teach Yuuri the jump, he had failed to ever land it in competition.  

He barely reached the four rotations before he was back on the ice. His knee bent and he had to touch down to keep his balance, but he had finally landed a flip.  Yuuri’s fist clenched tight and a grin spread across his face as he glided back to the center of the rink.  He ducked back into a spin before he set up before his final jump.  He flung himself into the air, sticking the quad toe loop, followed by a triple toe loop.  One combination spin later and Yuuri was breathing hard, arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

The world around him slowly came back into view, the sea of people, the cameras, and most importantly, Viktor, a pleased smile on his face was visible, and he stood with his arms open.  Yuuri spun and bowed first to the judges, then he made several quarter rotations to address each part of the audience.  Stuffed toys, flowers and other small gifts rained onto the ice around him audience on their feet all around him. Still panting, Yuuri skated off the ice, scooping up a small stuffed dog in his path on the way out.  As soon as he had stepped off the ice, Viktor was there to embrace him.  With their arms tightly intertwined around each other’s backs, Viktor whispers, “Yuuri I’m so proud of you. You were beautiful, it was perfect. Well, except for the quad flip, you still have to work on that one-- and the landing on the toe loop… some of your spins were weak too.”  

Yuuri muttered a thanks in reply, his breath still heavy after competing. He knew even better than Viktor that his skating was not perfect, he’d made more mistakes than he wanted to admit but he said nothing.  The pair made their way to the kiss and cry, and Yuuri sat nervously awaiting his score. Moments later, the numbers flashed across the screens across the stadium and on the monitor in front of them, 110.95. It was a personal best, not surprising since it was the highest level of technical difficulty Yuuri had ever actually completed in a competition. He gasped as soon as his score was shown, clutching Viktor’s hand tightly, smile on his face-- he was in first, and would probably stay there for the short program with a score that high.  

They stood to leave the kiss and cry, and Viktor tunneled his way through the throngs of reporters huddled around, tugging Yuuri along by his hand.  Once they had made it safely back into the locker rooms, Viktor swept Yuuri back into a long kiss, broken only by the sound of a door on the other end of the room.  Simultaneously, they looked to see Pichit standing just inside, phone in hand. “Awww” he whined, “I didn’t even get a picture!”

He sulked his way across the room until a huge smile broke out across his face. “Congrats Yuuri! I saw your performance, you were amazing!”  He slipped his arms around Yuuri’s back to pull him into a hug.

“You’re skating next, right?”  Yuuri asked as soon as Pichit had released him from his grip.

“Yeah, right after this performance.” A tinge of nervousness found his way into his voice, and Yuuri wrapped him in a reassuring hug.  “Don’t worry, you’ll be great.” He whispered just before allowing Pichit to make his way into the arena.

Shortly, Yuuri and Viktor found the TV most of the other skaters were huddled around, watching the end of the performance.  The previous skater’s score was announced, 97.75, a few points lower than Yuuri, but it meant he was still in first.  Viktor gave his hand another gentle squeeze as the number flashed across the screen.  

Hardly moments later, Pichit had stepped onto the ice, decorated in swatches of blue and gold.  His program was wildly different than the previous year, Celestino had opted for an elegant routine rather than the endearing image Pichit had earned.  Yuuri watched, jaw slacked, as Pichit skated with a newly refined grace that was nothing like their training days. He looked beautiful on the ice with movements that flowed together with an easy poise.  

Moments later, he had finished his program, and shakily made his way to the kiss and cry, coach in tow.  Surprise and joy flashed across his face as his score was announced, it was scarcely more than a point less than Yuuri.  Despite the discrepancy in their technical difficulties, Pichit had narrowly closed the gap through flawless execution and presentation.  

Yuuri knew he should be proud, even excited for his friend who had been there to support him every step of the way, but instead a new wave of anxiety swelled in Yuuri’s chest. The competition had gotten much closer. He looked at Viktor for reassurance, but his eyes were still fixed on Pichit making his way out of the rink. After a moment, he seemed to notice Yuuri’s gaze and looked down to meet it.

“Your friend was great today. It’s actually shocking how much he’s improved since last season.” Viktor stated, scanning Yuuri’s face for any sign of worry.

“It is,” Yuuri murmured. “His skating was beautiful, so different for when we trained together.”  

Yuuri hated when Viktor knew he was worried and did his best to keep his face neutral.  He gave Viktor a small smile that seemed to satisfy his concern before nudging him out of the room up to the stands where they could watch the days remaining performances. Viktor opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it and allowed Yuuri to push him out the door.

When the final scores had been announced, the rankings hadn’t changed much, Yuuri had stayed in first, Pichit just behind in second, and Chris had made his way up to third.  

Viktor insisted they go out to celebrate.

After they had quickly jumped in the shower (no not together, it wouldn’t have been quick if they got in together), Yuuri found he had been dragged out to a local bar where most of the skaters had gathered.  Once they had stepped inside, it was easy to spot the group huddled in the back corner, split off into a few separate tables.  Chris was at the table farthest away, and it was filled with other skaters chatting about the day’s events.  Chris nodded in Viktor’s direction but immediately went back to his conversation. Pichit sat at a mostly empty table, and stood and waved once he realized the pair had entered. After making his way over, Yuuri swept him into another hug and congratulated him on his short program.

A few hours later, when the gathering showed no signs of dying down Yuuri excused himself, claiming he needed some extra sleep before the next day.  As he stood to leave, Viktor insisted on coming with and they made their way back to the hotel in the brisk October air.  

As they walked Viktor reached down and wrapped their gloved fingers together.  

“You’re nervous aren’t you?” Viktor said without lifting his eyes from the sidewalk before them.  He felt a brief tug on his arm as Yuuri had stopped walking.  Viktor glanced up to see the man stiffen beside him before he started to walk again.

“I am, but it’s okay.” He whispered, “You’re here and that’s enough.”  

Yuuri had hundreds of reasons to be nervous, but nearly all of them were out of their control and telling Viktor about them would solve nothing.   Instead it would just give Viktor more things to worry about, so he kept his mouth shut and they spent the rest of their walk in silence.

Once they had finally made it back to the hotel room, they quickly shed their coats, and Yuuri flung himself into the middle of the bed, face down, before groaning into one of the pillows.  

“That bad huh?” Viktor snorted as he rolled onto the bed next to Yuuri.

Yuuri groaned again, “You have no idea, I always hated going to these social gatherings and you know that.” Viktor laughed in reply as he set his face next to Yuuri’s on the pillow.  “And I’m exhausted after today.”

Viktor moved his hands over to Yuuri’s back and gently massaged before pulling him into a kiss.  Yuuri smiled at the comfortable relationship that had finally grown between him and his coach, something he was still in disbelief about.  One day his idol had waltzed into his life, flipped it on its head, and then he had stayed. Viktor had become a permanent fixture in his life and Yuuri wouldn’t change that for anything.  Still, he didn’t completely understand exactly what had transpired in Viktor’s mind that made him pick Yuuri, or even why he had stayed; but there was one thing that he knew: Viktor Nikiforov was his, and his alone.

“What are you smiling about?” Viktor murmured, he pulled away so he could look at Yuuri’s face.

“Mmm nothing.” His smile grew as Viktor pulled himself on top of Yuuri.  His hands were over Yuuri’s wrists and his legs pinned the other man’s in place.  

“Really now?” Viktor pressed their lips together before he moved to Yuuri’s neck.  He worked his way down, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck and back up the other side.

“Viktor!” Yuuri gasped as he squirmed in the other man’s grip that kept him pressed firmly into the mattress.

Viktor let out a low laugh as his vocal chords brushed against Yuuri’s.  A small moan Yuuri’s lips as the vibrations made their way into the back of his throat.

“Viktor! Viktor, stop!” Yuuri struggled, pushing the words out in a whine.

Abruptly Viktor pulled back to look at Yuuri, afraid that he had somehow hurt him.  He was confused to instead find Yuuri stupidly grinning up at him.  He raised an eyebrow when Yuuri didn’t say anything right away.

Yuuri was still breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, he struggled to keep his voice level.  

“Viktor, I’m really sorry, but you know if you won’t kiss it when it’s silver, you definitely don’t get to tap it until it’s gold.”

The shock immediately crossed Viktor’s face, and his mouth hung open.  At the time when Yuuri had sprung it on him, he wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, and more than that, he was positive that he wouldn’t have remembered it after how drunk he had been that night.  Yuuri however, took advantage of the brief moment of surprise to wiggle his way out of Viktor’s grip and off the side of the bed.

“Um well I’m going to head down to the rink for a while to practice.” Yuuri called over his shoulder as he threw a few things in his bag and practically ran to the door.  Viktor sat on the bed dumbfounded and stared as Yuuri stepped into the hallway.  Just before he shut the door, Yuuri poked his head back inside and added, “Oh, and don’t bother waiting up for me.”

He made his way to the elevator and the same stupid grin was still plastered to his face.  It wasn’t often that Yuuri got the upper hand over Viktor, but when he did, he made certain to enjoy it.  He knew it was childish, and that in the days to come, Viktor would probably find some way to get back at him. Even more than that, he knew it was almost as much punishment for himself as it was for Viktor, but being able to one up Viktor in his own little petty way was definitely worth it.  

 When he finally reached the elevators, he pushed the button and it arrived almost immediately. Once the doors slid open Yuuri could see Chris leaning up against the wall.  He stepped inside, and Chris was clearly amused by the giddy expression on Yuuri’s face, despite his best efforts to hide it.

“I can see you two haven’t been making much progress in the ‘getting caught up on sleep and resting for tomorrow’ department.” Chris smirked.

“Well, not exactly, no...” Yuuri let out a nervous laugh as the elevator slowed a few floors above the lobby.

The doors opened and Chris pushed himself off the wall as he made his way out.  He took a few steps out of the elevator before he turned back. “Yuuri, you have no idea what you do to that man.” He said quickly before the doors closed behind him.

By the time he had reached the lobby and made his way across the street to the rink, he had still not been able to decipher Chris’ words.  He sat on a bench and started to lace up his skates.  Sure, he loved Viktor, and Viktor loved him, to what extent, he wasn’t sure.  But as for what he did to Viktor, Yuuri had no idea what Chris was talking about.  The way Chris had said it didn’t seem like it was either something bad or good, just something that Yuuri did.

He stood there and sighed. He had come here to take his mind off the real world for a little bit, and that was precisely what he planned to do.  He set his skate guards on the barrier next to the entrance to the rink, and stepped onto the ice.  

Even after all the experience he had gained the previous year, Yuuri was still not used to being the man to beat.  He decided it was a good idea not to practice his free skate in case he made any mistakes that might carry over into the next day’s competition. Instead, he reverted to what had always calmed him the most: skating Viktor’s old programs. With the exception of a few of his recent programs, Yuuri had nearly all of them memorized by heart.  

He steered clear of Viktor’s most difficult programs, and chose one from the junior division.  At that age, Yakov had prohibited Viktor from performing quads, but it certainly hadn’t stopped Viktor.  In an attempt not to tire himself more, Yuuri changed the quads from Viktor’s program into jumps that he hadn’t included in his free skate, and changed several of them to doubles or triples.  After all, he wasn’t there to compete, just to relax himself.  He slid effortlessly into the program, and after a short time, he had lost himself in his movements.  He skated mindlessly, in a surreal state somewhere on the fine line of his subconscious.

His dream state almost never helped with his nerves, it only allowed for a temporary reprieve of the overwhelming pressure, and at least let him get a good night’s rest before he had to compete.  Sometimes two or three hours on the ice was all it took if he could at least sleep.

After his dramatic comeback the previous season, he was still in the lime light, which made the pressure now greater than ever.  No one had ever attempted to both coach and compete during the GPF and it only added to Yuuri’s anxiety, though he knew Viktor would never want him to worry over it.  He worried constantly, and there were so many ways that the smallest trip up could have repercussions on Viktor.  The media already hung around the pair constantly, seeing them as a source of a season’s worth of gossip articles.  Any mistake Yuuri made would be grabbed immediately by the press claiming that Yuuri wasn’t taking his coach seriously, or that Viktor’s coaching had suffered because he was competing.  

Viktor’s fans scared Yuuri even more. While most were supportive of his relationship with Yuuri, many still saw Yuuri as the man that stole Viktor away from the skating world.  Despite how much he knew Viktor loved him, the thing that scared Yuuri the most was disappointing Viktor.  He dedicated more than a year of his life to teaching Yuuri, and any small mistake felt like he was laying waste to all Viktor had done.  Though he knew that if he revealed any of these thoughts to his coach, they would be immediately denied, they still bubbled up into his brain.

A few hours later he snapped back to reality once fatigue had made itself apparent in his muscles.  Quickly, he hopped off the ice and undid his skates, tossing his things back into his bag.  He pulled out his phone to check the time and saw that it was almost 2 am.  He had certainly stayed longer than he had meant.  He hurried out the doors of the rink hoping that Viktor, despite his warning, hadn’t stayed up to wait for him.  The air outside was frigid, and the wind stung at his cheeks and ears as he hustled back across the street. 

When he had reached their room, he was about to swipe his key card when he noticed the faint light bleeding into the hall out from underneath their door. A muffled voice speaking rapidly in Russian was barely audible from where Yuuri stood in the hall. Quietly, he pressed his ear against the door, the voice was louder now, and he could tell Viktor was clearly worried about something.  As the conversation led on his voice grew increasingly louder and a hint of anger seeped into his voice.  He paused for a moment before continuing.  This time he spoke in slow deliberate sentences trying to make his point abundantly clear.  He brought the conversation to a close and sighed loudly before he wished the other a good night and hung up.

Yuuri stood in the hall staring at the door puzzled as to who Viktor could have been talking to.  He turned over possibilities in his mind, but ruled many of them out based on the fact the Viktor had been speaking Russian, and given the time they were having this conversation.  After a few minutes, Yuuri decided it was futile at this point, he was getting nowhere this late at night, and he desperately needed rest for his competition the next day.  He made a mental note to ask Viktor about it in the morning before he swiped his card and quietly made his way into the room.

 Viktor was sitting on the far edge of the bed, back turned to Yuuri, still staring down at the phone in his lap.  He hadn’t heard Yuuri enter, so he took a few steps into the room before closing the door behind him.  At the sound of the lock clicking into place, Viktor’s head whipped around to meet Yuuri’s gaze.  His eyes were bright red, and a few stray tears still hung on his cheeks as he stood.  He brought his hands to his eyes to wipe at his face.  At the sight of his tear streaked face, Yuuri flung his things to the ground and ran to meet Viktor. 

Once both his arms were wrapped securely around Viktor’s waist, Yuuri looked up, scanning his eyes for any hint to what had happened.  “Viktor…” came out in a whisper as more tears now rolled down Viktor’s cheeks.  Yuuri reached up and wiped at his tears, carefully swiping his thumbs across his face.  “What happened, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Viktor choked out between the sobs he was trying desperately to hold back. “I just missed you.”

Yuuri let out a small sound  and pressed his head against Viktor’s chest as he cried.  He wanted so desperately to know what had happened, how he could help, and any way he could stop the tears that the man so rarely shed.  But, Yuuri knew, Viktor wasn’t ready to talk about it yet and he didn’t want to make it any worse by pushing the issue.  Instead, he just held Viktor tighter and waited for the tears to stop.

Eventually they did, and Viktor was left taking shaky breaths still tightly grasping the back of Yuuri’s jacket.  They stayed like that, just the two of them, holding each other close, standing at the edge of the room until Viktor’s breathing had finally returned to normal.  Yuuri looked up, searching his face again, and Viktor stared back, silently communicating his thanks.

“Bed?” Yuuri asked as he wiped away the wet streaks down Viktor’s face.  The other man nodded in response and sat back onto the bed.  Yuuri tugged off Viktor’s clothes and tossed them onto a chair nearby, before quickly following suit with his own.  They both crawled under the covers, and Yuuri reached over to shut off the lights.  Then, they slept, tangled together comfortably underneath the sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> So the next chapter won't be quite as long as this one, so hopefully it will be up soon.  
> I hope you've enjoyed thus far!


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